The Witch Watch

by Shamus Young

  Alice pulled open the door to find an old man with a furrowed brow and a bushy beard of grey hair. He was dressed in a suit like a footman. He had just turned to leave when she opened the door, and now came back and removed his hat.

  The man was cordial, “I beg your pardon for the late visit, ma’am, but I saw you strolling on the promenade not long ago, and the light was still on, so I thought...”

  “Of course. What can I do for you?” Alice replied quickly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure nothing was missed.

  “Well, I wanted to warn you. A couple of fellows from steerage came ‘round this evening. Acted as if they knew you. Made some rather scandalous accusations.”

  “Oh?” Alice said uneasily.

  “Nonsense, all of it,” the man said. “Not worth repeating. But they seemed to have it in for your... grandfather, is it? The fellow in the cloak?”

  “Yes. He’s quite cold, all the time. And deaf as a post,” Alice smiled bravely.

  “Ah, I see,” the purser said gently. He seemed to be just as uncomfortable with this exchange as Alice was. “And I understand that earlier today a man from steerage came into the saloon and made trouble for you. Maybe the same one, nobody can recall.”

  “That’s true,” she said guardedly. She had only opened the door part ways, and was trying to cover the aperture with her slender frame. “I don’t... Some of the crew took him away. They were very kind. There was no harm done. Was the man punished somehow?”

  “Not that I heard. And I’m glad you’re none the worse for it. Don’t know how he slipped in,” the purser rattled on. He seemed to have been working himself up say something, and came to it at last, “Are you in some kind of trouble, miss? Something you need help with?”

  “No,” Alice said quickly. “Thank you, but no.”

  “I see,” he said with some disappointment. “Well, if you feel unsafe or need us to do something to help you or your grandfather to feel safe, please let us know.”

  The conversation dragged on like this for another minute, with the purser standing at the door and rattling on. He told her who she might speak to if she was in need of help, when she might speak to them, who she should seek out if those people were not available, and how much all of them were concerned for her well-being. No matter how many times Alice thanked the man for his trouble, he didn’t seem to be inclined to stop offering them his help.

  Suddenly Alice felt coins being pressed into her hand from behind the door. She thrust the coins to the purser, “Thank you. Here is something for your thoughtfulness.”

  Things suddenly fell into place. He expressed his gratitude, gave her one final assurance that the crew was ready and eager to help her in a very non-specific way with problems she may have or may encounter in the future, and then he departed.

  “I suppose he means well,” Alice said once he’d gone. “But did you really have me give him half a crown? I’m not against kindness or even charity, but there was no reason to pay him. He hasn’t done anything for us.”

  “He did. He provided us with information,” Gilbert said. “We know that one of the men we’re chasing tried to rouse their suspicions against us, and that his efforts failed.”

  “For half a crown, that gossip was greatly overpriced.”

  “You did not give him half a crown for the gossip. You gave him half a crown to create gossip. He is now telling his fellow ship-mates about the lovely woman who recklessly hands out coin for news about herself or the three ruffians in steerage. If new information surfaces, however trivial, we can count on them bringing it to our door. We have recruited the sailors as our spies. The money will also make it difficult to believe that we’re involved in evil business. Think of it as an investment.”

  “Hm,” Alice said doubtfully.

  Simon uncovered the sorcery circle and touched up the parts that had been smudged, “So what do we do now?”

  “Now we take another walk,” Alice replied.

  Gilbert sat in the room and tried to ignore the sorcery circle while Alice and Simon took a stroll around the promenade. She stopped often and stared at the device for nearly a minute before moving on.

  “It works,” she said once they had returned and warmed themselves a bit. “But not particularly well. The device only responded to our sorcery circle on about a third of the ship.”

  “Meaning you’d have to be close to the sorcery before your contraption would tell you about it,” Gilbert said.

  “Yes. Although, this is not very strong magic. More potent magic would show up more readily. I imagine their spell to commune with the dead is stronger than our circle.”

  Simon got down on the floor and wiped the circle clean with his sleeve, “Why don’t we try again with the proper spell?”

  “I don’t know it, and it’s not in your book.”

  “I drew it once. The book called it ‘the Dead Call’. I’m sure I can draw it again.”

  “You drew the circle to commune with the dead? When?”

  Simon thought for a moment. “Four years ago? Maybe three and a half. It was just a little after my master was killed. My former master, I mean.”

  “And you think you could recreate a circle from four years ago, that you only drew once?” Alice asked incredulously.

  Simon had already begun the work. “Yes. I remember it. Although, I’ll need to replace the name. The one I drew called Lord Mordaunt. I don’t imagine we want to talk to him.”

  Gilbert stood up. “You’re not really thinking of performing actual necromancy in our room, are you?”

  “No. And we don’t have anyone to call,” Alice answered slowly. She was marveling at Simon’s work.

  “What about your father?” Simon asked.

  Alice looked up in shock, “You mean you could...?”

  “I’d just need to know his name,” Simon said.

  “No,” Gilbert said to Simon firmly.

  “Donovan White,” Alice said, almost as if in a dream.

  “No,” Gilbert said again, this time to Alice.

  Simon stopped writing. The two of them looked at each other for a long moment.

  “Alice,” Gilbert said firmly, “Think about this. You are no longer just ‘studying’ the Black Arts. You’re about to start using them. Not to catch the malefactors, but to your own ends.”

  Alice nodded slowly.

  “And then what will you do once you summon him?” Gilbert continued. “How do you think your father would respond to his daughter using sorcery?”

  “Of course,” she said suddenly. “This is madness. I’m sorry. I was just surprised.”

  Simon seemed equally eager to drop the business. The sorcery was put away and they did not speak of it again that night.

  The SS Callisto was greeted by a cruel and ugly morning of belligerent wind and rain. It wasn’t dangerous, but it was uncomfortable, cold, and nauseating. Passengers stayed indoors and shut the curtains. Even the experienced crewmen looked oppressed by the weather. The only other passengers outside were clinging to the railing and looking more than a little green.

  “Do we have to do this today?” asked Simon. He squinted at Alice through his rain-splattered spectacles. He was holding his jacket over his head as he walked, although the wind saw to it that the rain found a way through.

  “No, we do not have to do this today. We should do this today. And so we will.” She was watching her ethergram carefully as they walked.

  “It just seems unlikely that we’ll find anything with the ship moving about so much.”

  “It’s true,” she admitted. “We won’t see anything unless we’re very close to them while they’re in the process of performing sorcery. It’s almost hopeless, but not completely hopeless. And we have little else to do on this journey. We don’t know what we might learn from this.”

  “Is this what it’s like working for the Witch Watch?” Simon asked.

  “Yes. Although we usually have more men and more guns.”

  Simon was q
uiet for a few more moments before he asked again, “Are you worried about being attacked? Gilbert seemed to think that was possible.”

  “It’s possible. Our foes are likely not expecting us to be scurrying around below, so I doubt they will ambush us. And if they do, I have some ability to defend myself. Did you know I’m a wizard?”

  “Oh?” Simon said. “That’s marvelous. I wish I was one.”

  “So if we’re attacked, just stay behind me. I can roast our foes if they’re foolish enough to come close.”

  “The headmaster can do the same,” Simon cautioned.

  Alice stopped, “That is... alarming. My father faced a few wizards. I never have.”

  “Should we bring Gilbert with us?”

  “We’re going to have a very hard time getting below. The doors are generally watched. Gilbert isn’t going to be able to go below unseen. If questioned, there isn’t any way to explain him going down without giving away his disguise.”

  “I see,” Simon said, disappointed.

  “And it will be almost impossible for him to hide his face if he encounters someone in the tight spaces below.”

  “I understand,” he said.

  “And don’t forget why any of us are on this ship in the first place. This mad journey across the Atlantic is just a distraction from their real goal, which is to take the vigor from Gilbert. If they were to lay another sorcery trap like the one Gilbert encountered in Ravenstead, they could easily claim their prize.”

  “I am fully persuaded in this matter,” Simon said.

  “And we need someone to guard the room, given the amount of contraband we have there.”

  “Mercy!” Simon said at last. “Lead on.”

  They came to the door that led below. It was watched by a member of the crew, who strenuously urged Alice to turn away. He tried very hard to understand what she thought she was doing going down into steerage without blatantly asking her business. He was polite, but made it clear that this was a very reckless thing for her to be doing. His objections wavered when she told him that she’d heard seasickness could be reduced by riding lower in the ship. She put a coin in his hand and he stepped out of the way.

  Gratefully, they ran down the stairs and into the steerage section of the ship.

  “You do that often,” Simon said.

  “What?” Alice asked.

  “Lie.”

  “I didn’t lie. I told the man that I’d heard seasickness is lessened in the lower parts of a ship. I have heard that. I have no idea if it’s true, but I’ve heard it said. If you were suffering from seasickness I might run some experiments and find out.”

  “Hmmm,” replied Simon doubtfully.

  “Lie or not, the deception is necessary. At least, I can think of no alternative that allows me to do my job. The problem is that a great deal of my job is against the law. We live in strange times. Attitudes towards magic are changing, but there is still much superstition, confusion, and needless oppression. If I declared the truth, we’d all be roasted or hung. If I gave up, many malefactors would run rampant and see their schemes come to fruition. Lives would be lost. So the choices are our deaths, the deaths of innocents, or lying.”

  Simon nodded and looked thoughtful.

  They had entered the accommodations for the steerage passengers. It was a long corridor, wide but crowded. Bunks were packed together on the port and starboard walls. The ceiling was low enough that Gilbert would have needed to stoop if he were here. Lights hung from the ceiling, swinging with the rocking of the ship and casting dizzying shadows onto the walls. Each “room” was an alcove with a bunk on one wall and a bench on the other, situated so that there was just enough room for a single person to stand between the two and bang their shins. The rooms had thin wooden dividers between them, and were open to the main corridor. In some places curtains had been hung to offer some approximation of privacy. There were no portholes.

  This first section was for single men. Grim, dirty faces greeted Alice and Simon as they entered. The air here was foul. It stank of sweat, vomit, and a hint of sewage. Alice gagged as she entered. Many men were crowded near the door, preferring the damp icy air of the outside to the pestilent air further in.

  “My accommodations at His Lordship’s prison-school were more comfortable than this,” Simon whispered.

  They walked to the end of the section, where a curtain had been drawn across the corridor to divide the single men from the married couples. Alice and Simon proceeded through.

  “I did not see our foes amongst the single men,” Alice.

  “Neither did I,” replied Simon.

  “I don’t expect to find them here, but I’m just being thorough.”

  “And curious,” Simon suggested.

  “And curious,” she admitted.

  They reached the end of the section and another curtain.

  “This corridor seems to go on forever,” Simon said. “How many people live down here?”

  “Eight hundred, or so I’ve heard. But we are near the end,” she peeked through the curtain. “The area beyond is the smallest section, and is for single women only. Wait here.” With that, she vanished through the curtain.

  She seemed to be gone for a long time. Simon stood awkwardly in the corridor. There was nowhere to sit, unless he was to enter one of the alcoves that were called rooms. A few men were giving him suspicious looks. Or perhaps they were simply curious at seeing a sudden new face. He’d accepted being led into the section for married couples while being escorted by a woman, but now he was alone and felt like an interloper.

  “I did not expect to find them within, but I wanted to see where it led, in case there was some space beyond,” Alice said when she returned.

  She led them back to the men’s section, then into the dining saloon for steerage. It was crowded even when uninhabited. The long tables were close together, with just enough space for the benches between them. The ceiling was low, which made the room feel smaller still.

  “We did not see them above, and it’s doubtful they would linger in the weather without reason,” Alice said thoughtfully. “They are not in their assigned section of the ship, or the saloon. They must be below, in the crew area of the ship, as we suspected.”

  They passed through the galley without anyone stopping them or asking their business. They passed into a small storage area and then into the cargo areas of the ship.

  “This is not a very organized search,” Simon said after some time. “I doubt we’ll find the headmaster like this, and I fear we’ve lost ourselves.”

  “I’m not worried about getting lost,” Alice said. “We only need to head up if we want to escape. And we are not moving randomly. There is a purpose to our path.”

  “It escapes me,” confessed Simon. “Sometimes we turn left. Other times right. Sometimes we go down and sometimes we don’t.”

  “We’re coming from the men’s section of steerage, where the headmaster lives with his friends. Imagine we are them, and we are looking for a place to perform dangerous sorcery. Assuming none of them are blessed with your remarkable speed, they will want to find a space where they can be left alone for half an hour or so. They will want a place where there is no traffic. They will want to be far enough away that their voices will not draw attention. They will need room, more room than is available in these passages. They will not pass through doors that are watched. With those goals in mind, I feel we are on the right course.”

  “But if they are not performing the sorcery at this moment, we won’t find them,” Simon pointed out.

  “True,” Alice said, consulting her ethergram. “And I don’t think I see any activity now. But they might still leave signs for us to find. Be on the lookout for chalk or charcoal residue on the floor. Or for places where things have been moved to make room for their work.”

  They continued on. After making many confusing turns and going up and down many ladders they found themselves near the engine room. At this point an older crewman stopped
them. Alice confessed to having a fascination for machinery.

  “Do you?” he laughed mockingly. “Well there are nice pictures of sailing-ships you can look at in the saloon, and men who will tell you all the sailing stories you care to hear. Now clear out of the engine room or I’ll have you sent to the captain. I’ve no time for tourists.”

  “Please,” Alice pressed. “I’ve never seen a dual expansion engine in operation.”

  “Oh?” the man said, raising an eyebrow.

  Alice nodded, “When I was young I got to ride on one of the early ships in the Cunard line, a fourteen hundred ton iron-screw. I saw the simple engine in operation. Of course, those ships were not as large and grand as your Callisto so perhaps the comparison is unfair, but I’d like to see for myself.”

  “Well!” the man said, suddenly much more friendly, “I didn’t realize I had an engineer in my engine room.” He still didn’t seem to be inclined to let them look around, but he seemed pleased to have a visitor with genuine interest in his work.

  “I’ve heard gossip that men are designing ships with two screws, and triple-expansion engines,” Alice said seriously. “I imagine those will be very impressive once they take to sea. They might reach speeds as great as twenty knots. Almost double that of proud Callisto.”

  “Not quite double!” the man said defensively. “Callisto makes better than twelve knots if she isn’t fighting the wind. And I don’t think much of this talk for sticking more screws on a ship. If you want a better engine, you build a better engine. You don’t build two engines and pretend you’ve made something new. Two ships tied together don’t make one big ship. I’ll show you how a proper ship is built.” Then he nearly dragged the two of them through his engine room.

  The man introduced himself as Mr. Armstrong, and although he never bothered to say so, it was obvious he was Callisto’s Chief Engineer. (He had almost nothing to say about himself. He was either talking about Callisto, or his mouth was closed.) He showed Alice around the inner workings of the ship. Each and every bit of machinery seemed to have some tale attached to it, and each tale ended with a lesson in the supernatural strength and reliability of Callisto.